A Force to End all Forces (feat Majestic War)
by Majestic War
Summary: A collaboration between myself and BuBu Winter as well as prologue to DASR. This is essentially a summarized version of Thalomir's backstory. Rated T for violence.


**MW: This is the first collaboration I've actually posted here. It's something BuBu Winter and I made a while ago. We constantly revised and I complied pieces from the both of us to present to you a short story about Thalomir and his comrades, Frase and Jilak.**

 **Credits to BuBu for being an amazing writer and editor, as well as giving me the inspiration for Thalomir (he is a character she created and I added to and then used in my universe) and for creating her beautiful reimagined W101 universe which I use as a structure for my own reimagined verse!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Come forth.

A fist brushed against the damp sand. Shaggy black hair framed his face, nearly blending in with his skin, which was almost as brown as the wet sand beneath him. Bare. Clothes were disregarded, and he immediately assumed that he was a male after taking note of the weight beneath his crotch. He didn't ask what his purpose was-it seemed to be branded in his subconscious, a minute gift from his creators.

Do you know why you are here?

The man opened his mouth to speak, raising an eyebrow in confusion when he realized that words were not familiar to him. His crimson eyes seemed to glow in the slight breeze, and then traveled downwards as the air lifted sand and caressed his toes. He flexed his feet in anticipation. A hand rubbed against his stomach, and he grunted, tapping the defined muscles that coated his gut. He grunted again, lifting his leg and curling it repeatedly, testing his durability. He opened his mouth again, and a deep rumble escaped his lips. His voice, he assumed. "I presume that I understand my purpose."

Do you know who you are?

He paused momentarily, eyes traveling to the ground. "I should think so." He answered, voice powerful and full of undirected conviction.

You are Thalomir.

"Thalomir…" He whispered softly, testing the name. The word seemed to roll off his tongue, and it sent chills down his spine...although he didn't know what exactly those were.

You are the conflict to end all conflicts. You will allow us to achieve our goal of world peace through a means we have not tried yet-force. Do you understand?

Thalomir allowed his lips to curl into a smile. "I understand my purpose and I have basic knowledge of who I am." He answered. Although he did not know nor understand much, he felt ready to be released into the world...at least, once he was given clothing.

Go forth, paragon.

* * *

 _You are the conflict to end all conflicts….you are the conflict to end all conflicts...peace...by means of force._

He heard the words, a distant echo-no-a distant shrieking in his ears, a shrieking seemingly made by the throat of some ethereal being. Was it prophecy? He couldn't be sure. Not now. It was too soon, much too soon, to decipher if it was his overactive imagination or if it did indeed come from something higher above him.

Slowly, Jilak Sa'da opened his eyes, finding himself alone within his meditative chambers. Despite the warm fires produced by his storm magic, there was an unnatural coldness about him, a feeling of dread and uneasiness that seemed to have taken a much more physical form. The words, even as he awoke from his meditative state, continued to ring in his head, like a stubborn cub trying to learn a new magic. He shook himself, a low growl resounding from deep within his throat.

Was it a prophecy? A part of him-for reasons he couldn't quite explain-hoped not.

"My Speaker!" A new iciness replaced the old chill that dominated his body, only this one came not from an odd sense of dread, but from a presence outside his locked chamber doors. Upon instinct, the black-and-purple dragon took his human form, tribal tattoos rippling along his muscled arms as he slowly approached the entrance to his residence. Just as slowly-if not more so-he opened the door.

A pretty-faced young girl stood before him, a good two heads shorter than he, with long, platinum blonde hair and eyes the color of the frozen wasteland she must have came from, that is, a pure, blind white. He didn't recognize her, but there was a familiar scent that clung to the silver plated armor she wore.

"Yes, child?"

"Your kin comes for you."

"I have many a kin, girl."

"Your kin, as in, the Matron."

Jilak quirked a dark eyebrow, an inquisitive light entering his green-gold eyes. An audience with the Matron often meant death, though he was rather certain she wouldn't dare attack him in the First Titan's palace. He nodded curtly to the girl, and-upon grabbing his cloak-followed her down the narrow hall towards the main throne room.

Once they had reached the considerably large and empty room, he immediately recognized the tall form of the First Titan, and in front of him was the more muscular, white-scaled form of Frase Ka'dlaak, a Descendant of Ice, a bloodthirsty war hero. His cousin. They noticed him immediately, and after they exchanged words in hushed voices, the First Titan retreated, leaving the two masters and the girl alone in the room.

"Am I being put to death already?" Jilak asked sarcastically, a note of a growl in his normally eloquent and engaging tone. His kin wasn't amused, however, and instead of responding she simply transformed into her human form, which, despite being female, was still taller and more muscular than he was. As some liked to describe her, she was a majestic and beautiful weapon of war, one who lived for the the purpose she was made for.

"No, Sa'da, though you very well should be, wasting your strength on advising when you've more raw power than I." Frase snarled. She turned sharply back toward the main doors of the throne room, silver-tinged white hair swishing about her. She glanced over her shoulder, red-rimmed eyes shining dangerously in the dim lighting of the throne room. "Come, my kin. We must talk. Alone."

Cautiously, though curious of what his once-friend needed to say, he nodded respectfully to the blind apprentice and followed his kin out, instinctively curling his arm around hers as any gentleman would do. While the War Matron snarled, showing visible dislike of his close proximity, she allowed him to walk with her arm-in-arm. Jilak was surprised, though not displeased by this permittance.

"There was a man who came by the recruiting station, though not asking for permittance into the army," Frase murmured gruffly as the pair strolled through the courtyard. "He was...not like the others. He was powerful, and he moved with a sense of purpose. A human with a purpose." The powerful Descendant scoffed as if the very thought was ridiculous, her racial tendencies arising. Jilak didn't look at her, his narrow eyes focused on the landscape before him.

"Humans have natural magical tendencies, for their blood channels their magic, and with that channeling of magic means control of oneself." He said matter-of-factly, eyes scanning around him as he forcibly slowed their initially brisk pace to enjoy the scenery. He glanced at her, smirk playing across his handsome features. "It is why you have had more human apprentices than dragon, or even Titan-kin."

"I did not come to discuss the properties of filth-blood." Frase jabbed her elbow harshly into Jilak's stomach, causing a grunt to escape his lips.

"I..imagine you didn't, sestra…" he growled, rubbing his flank. "So speak your mind."

Frase let go of Jilak, proceeding toward the wall of a balcony and leaning over the stone edged fence, staring out at the expansive greenland that surrounded the palace. Jilak stood beside her, his arms crossed.

"His potential is undeniable. His purpose is unknown." As if embarrassed, Frase stared intently at a willow tree below her, long claws digging into the stone she leaned on. "I come for guidance, bratku."

Jilak stared at her, unable to suppress the surprise he felt, the emotion becoming a mask over his normally calm and elegant face. He opened his mouth as to respond, then closed it again, for once quite speechless and very aware of Frase's burning want to slap him for being so blatant with his emotions.

Frase seeking guidance was...unsettling.

"I will meet the man. I cannot provide wisdom on something I do not know." A curt nod. Frase then called to the blind apprentice, whom he learned was called Cecilia, and ordered her to find the man and inform him of a meeting he must attend at the Riverton Hall, next to the recruiting station in the village. He was to come as soon as possible.

"Let us go, then." Together, the two legendary dragons transformed into their true forms, flying across towards their set destination. Jilak couldn't help but feel concerned, putting into high consideration the fact that Frase had asked him for guidance, which-in a simple sense-was odd, her normally proud and aggressive nature preventing her from asking much of anything. He might have ventured into thinking she had feelings for this man, but he established long ago Frase was incapable of feeling such explicit emotions.

He shrugged inwardly and focused on the skies ahead, praying for the Titans to guide his cousin. Jilak and Frase both transformed as they landed, their feet touching the balcony of Riverton Hall softly. Jilak mentally noted how good the cool stone felt beneath his feet. The Speaker of the Titans glanced around before turning his attention to his kin. "I figured that as a mentor, you'd teach your students to move faster." Jilak joked, earning a jab to the gut in response. He cursed under his breath, avoiding Frase's glare that seemed to prick his skin.

Frase and Jilak stood still, ignoring the furniture that adorned the balcony. Jilak fixed his gaze on the oaken door adorned with carvings of the Titans on the opposite end of the hall, and Frase fidgeted with her axe. She looked up, the creaking of the doors all too familiar. The stutter in Cecilia's voice confused her however. The girl entered first, her cheeks tinged pink and her seemingly blind eyes fixed on the ground. She continued to walk until she reached Jilak and Frase, who were heads taller than her. "He...he'll be right in…" She murmured softly, and Frase raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Jilak sighed. Women were almost impossible to understand, even women born of dragons.

As Cecilia turned to leave, a man entered the room, dragging his eyes over the hall, scrutinizing every object in the room. His skin was darker than the most brown of oak, and his eyes were a piercing crimson and his shaggy black hair seemed messier than it had been before. Whoever he was, he radiated power. Frase was right-he walked with purpose-and then Jilak realized why Cecilia had been blushing when she'd entered somewhat reluctantly. The man was bare. He might've lost his clothing for all Jilak knew, but the dragon pushed those thoughts aside as he continued to observe the human.

"Maybe he was walking with purpose because he needed clothes," Jilak whispered to Frase.

The dark skinned, enigmatic human was well defined, probably put through years of intense training, but with what or whom Jilak was unsure. The man looked up, glancing at the two dragons. He was a few inches taller than Jilak was in his human form, about Frase's unnaturally tall height. He walked closer, nodding to Cecilia as she passed him hurriedly.

When he spoke, his voice was baritone, with long, heavy notes that echoed throughout the room. "I was summoned here by a young female with long silver hair. I was notified that the Matron requested my presence in Riverton Hall. Might I ask, who is this Matron she speaks of? And is this the correct residence?"

"The matron would be I." Frase stood at her full length, every bit as intimidating as she might have been in her true form. The man gazed up at her with blank eyes, undeterred, appearing more confused than afraid. He nodded to himself and Frase continued. "This is Riverton Hall, and I summoned you for a reason, human."

"I would much enjoy it if you referred to me as Thalomir." Thalomir answered politely, bowing in proper fashion. "What have you brought me here for? And who might your acquaintance be?" Thalomir glanced at Jilak, eyes running over the dragon's form. He nodded almost approvingly, and Jilak scowled.

"I am Jilak Sa'da, Speaker of the Titans. What right do you have to talk to me, human?" Jilak growled, allowing his anger to get the best of him. He caught himself before he could say any more and inhaled deeply. "Apologies, Thalomir. I am not used to seeing many humans capable of speaking to me so...casually." Jilak snorted under his breath.

Thalomir's lips twitched into a slight smile and he bowed to Jilak. "You are forgiven. Pleased to meet you, Speaker of the Titans." He grasped Jilak's hand and shook it vigorously. Jilak coughed dryly, the wave of power pushed from this man's body overwhelming him with waves of nausea.

Frase cut in almost immediately. "I summoned you here because you seem to walk with purpose. You emit power. I demand to know your identity and your true objective."

Thalomir put a finger to his chin in a nonchalant gesture of thought. "My identity...Pardon my rude approach, Matron, but I am Thalomir. Is there any more I must state?"

"Just because you have a name does not identify you among the crowds; another is likely to share such a thing." Jilak interjected before his kin had time to retort, shooting her a warning glance as she opened her sharp-fanged mouth. "As my kin has stated, you walk with a purpose. Does your name give you purpose?" Sarcasm lined his words like venom.

Thalomir scoffed. "Do you truly believe that but a name would give one purpose? Of course not, dragon. But I dare not state my purpose as it is of no importance to you. And I have no intention of acting upon it at the time." Thalomir crossed his arms and glanced around the hall. "I have no idea why I was summoned here-this entire meeting was foolish from the beginning."

"Foolish?" Frase, without warning, without indication of any type, shot towards Thalomir, pinning him to the wall, armored arm at his bare neck, clawed hand at his gut as if ready to disembowel the naked man, an action Jilak knew was entirely possible given the circumstances. He didn't intend to interject this time. A wicked, almost endearing grin curled her fine lips, malicious and stunning, dangerously beautiful. "I see potential within you, human, however tainted your blood is, however hideous you are." She paused. Her smile faded and her claws touched his lower stomach, cold as ice and as sharp as swords. Frost crackled along his navel, and Thalomir grunted in slight annoyance. The pressure on the man's neck didn't deter. If anything, she applied even more. "You've no idea who we are, do you? What we are, of our influence in the society you walk?"

Thalomir grinned lopsidedly, his eyes glowing with a fierce defiance. "Should I care?" He whispered, tilting his head and spitting on the floor. "As I had said before, you do not need to know what I am here for. If you pry, I will warn you once. If you intend to pry again, I will bury your carcass in the Earth." Before Frase could retort, his grin grew wider. "Do not test me, Frase Ka'dlaak." Thalomir easily pried her hand from his neck and bowed. "It was a pleasure." He murmured and strode from the hall.

Jilak gave a low whistle. Frase looked back at Jilak, same smirk still plastered upon her pale-skinned face, though it grew more serious within the second. "Better than your tactic, Speaker." She strode over to her kin, crossing her arms and leaning against the balcony wall.

"Well, you certainly found his..wit." Briefly, Jilak was returned to the echo of the words which woke him from his meditative slumber. Frase quirked an eyebrow.

"Your opinion, then, brethren?"

There was a long pause. Jilak turned, once again leaning over the edge of the wall and staring out with thoughtful eyes at the serene village that surrounded the palace. A low note resounded from deep in his throat, too thoughtful and melodic to be a growl.

"He...shall suit your needs for the army, sestra." Before Frase could respond, Jilak turned and bowed respectfully. "However, it is also in my opinion that I should be the one to speak with him. You discovered his cunning and maybe his potential, true, but you are hardly one to bring out the best in people."

"Nor are you. I recall you being far more prejudice against the human race than I." It might have been a joke, but as she said this Frase took on a more serious expression, her lips pulled downwards into a frown. A playful smile curled the ends of Jilak's thin lips, and bowing once again he leaped over the balcony edge before Frase could continue on her topic of racism, fully intending on finding the man before anyone else, if only to get him some much needed clothes. He walked the streets in his human form, with every bit of dignity one of his stature would have.

* * *

War was inevitable.

That's what he initially thought. What he was told. But now he was knowledgeable. Now, he understood that he had no real purpose or motive. Now he understood that his creators were selfish, cynical narcissists who planned to use him for their own causes. If he was a force to end all forces, then he would slaughter anything that stood in his way as an act of defiance against the Titans, who had no real knowledge of what he had been conspiring.

Thalomir spread his arms wide, spinning the axe in his right fingers. His red eyes scrutinized his foes. So the Titans had been watching.

No matter.

He allowed a small smile to creep on his face and he leveled the axe at the head of the small party. "My son-Valkoor..." He began, his voice adopting a slight edge. Annoyance crept into his tone and he gnashed his blindingly white teeth together, tasting the anticipation that lingered in his mind. "...Valkoor, my own kin...why do you stand against your birthfather? What have I done to you to deserve your hatred? Did you not wish to be akin to me when you were but a mere nuisance of a child?"

Valkoor's vibrant scarlet eyes found the ground for a moment, an arid silence permeating the air. Thalomir's castle wasn't a malicious place-unless you threatened him-and held a mediocre army, but it always seemed more malevolent when Thalomir was outside, guarding his home with resolute resolve. The castle appeared that way now, and for a moment, Valkoor was struck with fear. He swallowed his obnoxious consternation and drew his sword from the scabbard at his hip. He slung the shield off of his back and slid the armguard onto his forearm, feeling his mana pool stir. "Our ideals clashed, father. Your defiance has led to this...confrontation." Where Thalomir's baritone voice held contained rage and controlled power, Valkoor's voice was lighter, elegance etched throughout his tone, his control over his abilities almost stronger than his father's.

Thalomir willingly let the infectious parasite that he referred to as fury invade his mind. "Do not judge me for my ideals, boy. You lack understanding of independence. You lack understanding of solitude. Why, you ask? Because you are a coddled nuisance of a boy. You are young and your mind is feeble. You...you do not deserve to be my kin." Thalomir didn't wait for a response and pointed at two of the other three members with his axe. "Frase, Jilak..! My brethren...you have the gall to commit yourself to this...treachery?"

Frase growled lowly under her breath and Jilak snorted audibly. "You are the one committing unreasonable acts of treason, tyrant. If Valkoor does not deserve to be your son, then you have no right to call yourself his birthfather." Jilak paused, then, "Why do you stand against the Titans, Thalomir du Legendaire Suzerain con Crux? Why do you dare to defy your creators and degrade the law which you once upheld so graciously? What is your motive, tyrant?"

They called him tyrant.

They had the nerve to call him such a name? Were they trying to die?

Thalomir's eyes flashed in a burst of anger, and he ignored the question, inhaling deeply and regaining his composure. He swung the tip of his axe to point towards the last person in the group, a young-looking female with a natural blush resting on her face, and unusually red lips. She held a staff in her hand, and her body was alight with magical energy. "You dare to bring a female into this? A woman who knows no war? Apart from the Matron of War, you dare-"

Thalomir was cut off by Valkoor standing defensively in front of her. "She is my partner, father." He paused, maybe to savor Thalomir's apparent surprise. "We are very much in love. She wanted to join my cause. I could not refuse."

Thalomir let his axe swing the the floor, and he leaped from the castle steps, his boots crunching against the sand almost painfully. He stuck the Crescent Axe of the Astrals in the ground and allowed his eyes to find ground. He closed them with an agonizing slowness, and his long black hair began to whip in the wind.

Thalomir did not see Valkoor, but he felt him. Felt his mana. Felt his heartbeat. Heard his breath. Heard his almost incoherent footsteps as he edged closer, sword brandished. After making it so that he was close enough to not escape, Thalomir's head whipped up, his face a mask of emotionless fury. "Did I permit you to stray close to me, boy?"

Valkoor's eyes widened, and he brought his shield up with incredible swiftness as Thalomir's boot slammed into the defensive tool, throwing Valkoor backwards. Valkoor tumbled over his feet on the sand before he was able to find the correct grip, and slammed his shield into the thick sand, skidding to a halt in front of Frase and Jilak.

Thalomir inhaled deeply, his eyes closed, before he snapped them open as he exhaled, his mind blank, emotions slaughtered, crimson eyes glowing brightly. "My...my friends...if you dare to continue this betrayal, then I will inevitable die. But before my demise, you will all be felled by my power."

Valkoor inhaled and exhaled like Thalomir had done, but when he opened his eyes, his body did not hum with power. Without warning, he rushed towards his father, his body a mere blur, flashes of pure silver and gold representing his sword and shield.

If someone had told Valkoor earlier that he'd duel his father in front of his castle after learning of the conspiracy to rebel against the Titans, Valkoor would've scoffed in annoyance. But now...

He was broken out of his thoughts as the axe careened towards the left half of his ribcage with unnatural accuracy. Valkoor barely had time to slide the shield down to protect his side before the axe connected with a harsh clang and the sound of grating metal filled Valkoor's ears for what seemed like an eternity before he was thrown to the side, crashing into a stone pillar engraved with the visages of Thalomir's creators. The pillar snapped and crashed on top of Valkoor.

Thalomir stared at the area where Valkoor had landed, his face blank and unreadable. Dust and grit obscured his vision, but he didn't need to see to know that Valkoor was still alive. Thalomir brandished the axe before him, holding it with two hands in front of his body as if he was an Earthborn doing kendo. He tilted it to the left, paused and tilted it to the right as Valkoor came sailing out of the remains of the pillar. He skidded into Thalomir, leaning into his slash.

Sword slammed against axe, and Valkoor bore a look of rage on his face, his teeth pressed together tightly, eyebrows furrowed. Thalomir grinned, and pushed back against the force Valkoor put into his wrist. Thalomir grit his own teeth and shoved hard, causing Valkoor to stumble. The tyrant retreated a few steps, and spun the axe in his hand.

Valkoor wrenched his neck to the left, and after hearing a crack, repeated the process, wiggling his neck about until he was satisfied. He spat out a bloody tooth along with a wad of blood and rubbed his lip with his shield hand. When he drew his hand away, it was almost smeared in blood. The young man raised an eyebrow and didn't bother to clean it off. Valkoor unbuckled the straps on his shield and twirled it in his hand before hefting it by its edge. His scarlet eyes fixed on his father; endless pools of blood that held nothing. No remorse, no fear, no anger.

Thalomir returned the gaze with one of his own, and for a time, the two men stared at one another. Thalomir stole a glance at Frase, Jilak and Valkoor's wife, and lifted his hand into the air. The sky darkened suddenly and an army of undead burst from the ground, skeletal arms tearing through the earth with unexpected ease, a multitude of Lich materializing, grotesque creatures more akin to demons dropping from the sky, wings extending from their sickly looking frames, piercing golden eyes finding your soul and chilling it with but a gaze. The army stood stock still as if they were awaiting a command, pieces of obsidian armor appearing on every necromantic creature.

Thalomir raised his hand to the sky again, and as the sky began to grow light once more, a black bolt of lightning struck the tyrant's Palm and solidified. Thalomir twirled a spear of ebony electricity in his hand, raven-hued hair swaying gently in the breeze. "Your existence is meaningless," he whispered, and the army of the dead galvanized into action, darting, leaping, hurling, careening, walking, lumbering-every form of possible movement-towards Valkoor's allies.

Valkoor growled and threw the shield at his father. Thalomir batted the object aside only to see a silver edge aimed at his face, the blade filled with the intent to bisect. Thalomir dropped the electric ebony spear, raised a hand and caught the blade in his hand, pushing back against Valkoor's blade. Without warning, Thalomir's left hand was suddenly encased in ice and Thalomir adopted a look of surprise. "You...Valkoor...where did you learn Raw Ice..?"

Valkoor smirked. "Father-no, Thalomir-you really thought I would intend to duel you unprepared?"

Thalomir shook his head with a chuckle, his baritone voice resounding throughout the castle walls. "And you really thought that I would surrender to your pathetic rendition of a challenge?" Thalomir's body whirled astoundingly, boot and axe flying. His boot connected with the electric spear he created, and he miraculously kicked it into Valkoor, who failed to react in time. The spear brushed against his chest and exploded, dark black smoke forming a spherical prison around Valkoor. Thalomir's left arm reared back, and he gave a small nod, the dark smoke retracting and vanishing as Thalomir drove his ice-coated fist into his son's stomach.

Instead of thick, muscled flesh, Thalomir was rewarded with the harsh clang of something hitting metal as Valkoor swung his sword in a deadly downwards arc, the blade scything downwards so fast that it began to screech. A dull hiss began to emit from the weapon, and Thalomir had just enough sense to halt his first as the blade connected. For a moment, it seemed as if time had slowed.

Raw Ice was impenetrable, no? And Thalomir could tell that Valkoor wasn't strong enough to dispel the enchantment, so then why was Valkoor's blade slicing through the ice?

Right as the blade made it a half inch deep into the ice, a blast of silvery whitish fire sent Thalomir stumbling backwards. Thalomir would've hit the ground, but right as he fell, he slammed the axe blades into the ground and pushed off, the force moving him back upwards, and he whirled to the right as his body flew towards the arcing blade, the rod that connected with the triple bladed axe slamming against the arcing blade.

The impact of metal on metal was enough force to push Thalomir back slightly. He allowed a smirk to spread across his face, and he growled lowly. He'd decided to hold back against his son, knowing that if he used his full power, Valkoor would die. His smirk grew wider. "When did you become so strong, Valkoor? I do not remember having time to instruct you on how to...properly wield power."

Valkoor hesitated slightly, and Thalomir felt his wrists twitch. A boot was sent into Valkoor's knee, and Valkoor yelled in agony, his anger dissipating; his control dissipating. A harsh crack came beneath Thalomir's boot, and Thalomir could almost feel his son's knee splitting and he nearly felt a twinge of guilt.

Guilt.

Guilt.

This would not do. He was ruthless. He did not care for life, child or not. This budding man before him was his enemy. A threat which must be annihilated.

"You are not my son..." Thalomir hissed, spinning his axe in his hand, willing his energy inside the blades, which sparked to life, dark mist swirling around the edges. "...You are an enemy. A threat. An obstacle. You are too naive to understand independence. Servitude is pitiable. Loyalty is incredulous. You do not understand because your blind love makes it so!" Thalomir's crimson eyes lingered on Valkoor's wife who stood In the centre of a circle of treants. His gaze fixed back of Valkoor and he hissed, "You will know hate."

"PROTECT HER!" Valkoor yelled as Thalomir leaped into the air and vanished. Frase darted towards the circle, but Jilak was faster. Right as Thalomir finished his teleport and materialised before Jilak, and a blast of electricity filled the air with the smell of burning flesh and sent Thalomir crashing into his own castle gate. Jilak inhaled deeply, flexing his fingers, the tribal tattoos obscuring most of his body rippling as if they were alive.

His narrow eyes surveyed the destruction, and he crossed his arms. "I am not one to fight. I only came here to negotiate with an acquaintance."

Valkoor looked incredulous. "He can't be negotiated with now! Look at him! He's a walking monster!" Valkoor rubbed his arms. The force her exerted on Thalomir had caused his muscles to strain and various gashes to open on his arms.

"Anyone can be negotiated with, Valkoor. You do not understand. He was created to end all conflicts-"

"I know that!" Valkoor interrupted childishly. The ground rustled and the rocks stirred, if only slightly. The gate was suddenly thrown off of the pile of rocks and earth covering Thalomir.

Jilak wasn't finished, though. "-in an attempt to bring peace. He was left disillusioned and unknowledgeable because the Titans did not wish for him to understand. If he understood, then he thought. And if he thought, then he would disagree with his position and rebel. But they could not stop Thalomir's hunger for knowledge. Thalomir knew freedom. He knew independence. But he did not understand until the last moment. He did not understand love until you were born into this harsh world. And then he realized that he was an object, a vessel; a tool to be used to spread peace. And he began to question. The Titans knew they had failed after Thalomir began to question why he was created. And he decided to rebel. But he still fails to understand. He does not understand loyalty. He is like me, in some ways. Everyone can be talked to, Valkoor." At this moment, Thalomir climbed out of the rubble and lifted his axe from the ground.

"But will they listen? He tried to kill my wife!" Valkoor exclaimed, feeling slightly calmer than he had been a monologue before.

"If they do not listen, then I must try harder." Jilak simplified, and snorted. "I do not like this form." He muttered to himself, and in a hair's breadth, transformed into the form he was most comfortable with. As a dragon, Jilak was slender, with a surprisingly long body and strong, powerful hind legs. Gold and yellow spines dotted his back, purple and black scales formulating his hide. He had piercing green eyes and yellow pupils, and lightning sparked across his body. Jilak flexed his wings and placed them over Valkoor and his wife, Eden.

Thalomir rose to his full 5'11" height and stood, one leg slightly crossed over the other, arms spread wide. "Jilak Sa'da." He boomed, voice carrying across the battlefield. His robes were torn across his stomach where he had been blasted and he sported multiple gashes across his face and chest. "If you think negotiating is going to even make me consider ending this foolhardy rebellion now, you are wrong."

Jilak snorted and clapped his wings against his breastbone. "Then perhaps we will negotiate in a different way."

"Perhaps." Thalomir muttered before falling silent.

Frase crossed in front of Jilak, still in her human form. She spun her war axe in her claws, ivory scales flashing, ice crackling around her feet. "You have strayed so far in such little time."

"Do you care?" Thalomir asked, spinning his own axe, the skeletons surrounding his foes crumbling into the earth. A bear clad in armor seemed to materialize behind Thalomir, rising from his shadow, a shining silver broadsword in hand. King Artorius dusted off his crown and wiped his broadsword on the already-dirtied ivory strip of cloth that hung off of the bottom of an obsidian ornamented plate that covered his gut.

Frase snorted, the patches of whitish-blue scales on her body crackling as fresh ice formed and cracked. "Should I have?"

"I wasn't expecting you to." Thalomir answered, and turned to his otherworldly comrade. "Artorius."

The bear acknowledged him with some level of content. "Thalomir."

"I have summoned you to my residence because I require assistance." He glanced at Frase. "Would you be so kind...?" Thalomir trailed off, knowing he didn't have to finish his sentence for Artorius to assist him-they'd been friends for years-although it was always better to appeal. Artorius gave a curt nod and hefted his sword in his paws, striding towards Frase, a gleam in his eyes that noted that he was amused by this predicament.

He stopped abruptly about fifteen feet from her and called to her. "So then, Matron. I assume you will be my opponent?"

Frase responded in kind. "Artorius. Do you know what your so-called 'friend' has done? What crimes he has committed to reaffirm his independence?"

Artorius laughed, a sound closer to a feral roar than a chuckle or even a bellow. He slapped his thigh in an unkingly manner, his teeth gleaming. "Matron, you have yet to understand. Thalomir is a friend of mine and has proved his worth to me by remaining loyal throughout the years. This is how I will pay back my debt. Object if you will, but I will not listen."

Frase shook her head and hefted her war-axe. "Then the only way to reason is through force."

Artorius raised his broadsword. "Bless your soul, Matron. I will be sure to keep it close after I slay you." He roared and swung downwards, a blast of dark flame rising from the earth towards Frase. She leaped backwards, touching the ground again a few meters away. Thalomir stuck his axe in the ground and watched the fight until a pair of voices drew his attention.

"There is no time to be distracted, tyrant." Jilak muttered and Thalomir barely had time to whirl before the magically infused sword was dragged agonizingly across his back, currents of electricity attacking his spine repeatedly. Thalomir managed to twist his body for a kick, but his boot connected with a silver bladed sword and the tyrant was thrown backwards. He flipped mid-fall and rolled to his feet, skidding across the thick sand.

Thalomir gritted his teeth, surveying his opponents with his crimson eyes, which began to flow blindingly. Jilak had reverted back to his human form, a sword clasped in his hand. Lighting circled the blade and Thalomir could feel the breeze emitting from the weapon although he was at least thirty meters away. Valkoor and his wife, Eden stood next to Jilak, weapons in hand. Valkoor's previous wounds are gone and Thalomir stared at Eden.

So she was a Theurgist.

He rose to his feet, the deep slice in his back stinging. "Well..." He began in annoyance. "This is hardly fair." He picked a clump of wax from his ear and flicked it on the ground, crushing a nearby scorpion underfoot as he did so. His scarlet blood dribbled onto the sand, coloring the once beige grains a dark burgundy. Thalomir smirked. While he wasn't one to take much damage during a battle, this was different and the odds were against him. And considering the fact that he was bleeding, that just set him as even with his opponents.

Thalomir inhaled deeply, spinning his axe in his hand. He raised it before it plummeted, his arm stopping right about at his chin. A flick of the wrist, and he began to trace an ebony sigil in the air before him. Valkoor's eyes widened, and he rushed towards his father right as the sigil erupted with necromantic energy and Valkoor was thrown off of his feet as a dark viridian-almost black bubble began to grow, the origin being Thalomir. Valkoor swore loudly and traced a sigil of his own, which erupted as the bubble converged on his location.

The Death Shield spell shrouded Valkoor, and he prayed that it'd be wide enough to cover Eden and Jilak, but his hopes were dashed as Eden rushed towards him, the bubble passing over the shield but reforming behind him immediately. "Eden..!" He yelled in panic.

Eden glanced at the bubble that continued to near her, down at the black sand that lay underneath Valkoor's feet where the bubble had passed over, and steeled herself. She slammed the end of her staff into he ground as the bubble neared her and a wave of radiance shot from her body, shattering the bubble completely.

Thalomir raised an eyebrow, but he wasn't entirely surprised. He was a Necromancer. He knew how to deal with the opposite form of magic. Raw Life wasn't a form that entirely bothered Thalomir, considering the fact that as a Necromancer, using Absolute Death allowed him to siphon life from his opponents, and even become a temporal spectre, able to break and bend the will of creatures mightier than he. Thalomir merely strode towards the couple as Jilak met them once the bubble had dissipated, clearly having no intention of bothering with it.

Thalomir inhaled deeply and exhaled. His robes were torn along his back, a large slit opening to reveal the shining muscle beneath. If he was going to end this, he may as well do so now.

He glanced back at Artorius. The king of Avalon fought valiantly against Frase, and she had left several wounds spanning all over her body, two of them possibly fatal. On the contrary, the tips of Artorius' paws were frozen and various chinks in his armor were permeated with bloody ice.

Thalomir returned his gaze to his foes, who were in the middle of recovering and threw his hand over his body, as if wrapping an invisible cloak around him. A shadow seemed to swirl around around him before solidifying on his figure; a thick shadowy armor.

Valkoor gritted his teeth and started to his feet, but Jilak beat him to it. "Vindur, allow me to gift you blood." Jilak swung his sword four times, dragging his arm through the air across his body, sending short gusts of wind towards Thalomir, who crossed his arms over his body, the shield of darkness around him deflecting the wind projectiles.

Thalomir shook his head, a look of fury finding his eyes. "No more of my blood will be spilled, braktu." Thalomir roared and hefted his axe, sharing towards Jilak, who also adopted a look of concentrated annoyance and charged towards his former comrade. At that moment, Frase gave a hefty battle cry and leaped into the fray as Valkoor and his wife donned looks of conviction and darted towards the tyrant.

* * *

The stench of blood and sweat permeated the air, and bodies were strewn across the sand. Some still had life...others did not.

"No more of my blood will be spilled, braktu."

That was an understatement.

Actually, Valkoor was the only one left standing, rueful tears carving moist streaks along his cheeks, the body of his father sprawled before him, previously having been bent along the blade of a sword that seemed to glow a dark crimson. Thalomir now lay sprawled across the sand, eyes finding the blue sky, the sword that he had been impaled on next to him. The young man panted with exhaustion, wounds costing his body. He cradled the body of Eden within his arms. She was alive, but death was clutching her tightly. His cries were soft, curt sobs that shook his shoulders only slightly. Valkoor glanced at the body of his father again, scarlet eyes scrutinising the seemingly lifeless body.

Thalomir's chest heaved, and he coughed.

At the exact moment Valkoor let out a roar that teemed with rage and sadness, Frase threw herself out of her daze and Jilak's eyes snapped open.

Valkoor screamed. His throat choked on hatred but he didn't stop there. He dropped Eden's body and she rolled near Thalomir, coughing softly. Valkoor leaped over her and raised his hand to the sky. A bolt bolt of electricity filled the space between his palms and he drove it into Thalomir's heart, the young man's final scream of anguish permeating the silence.

Thalomir stared at his son, crimson eyes finding scarlet eyes, blood dribbling down his chin. His lips curled into a smile and his hand touched Valkoor's cheek. "My child..." Thalomir whispered, and two shadows obscured the light hanging over his face. Thalomir glanced at the still forms of Jilak and Frase.

Frase looked disappointed yet slightly pained and Jilak's expression was angry yet sorrowful. Thalomir's smile widened. "My brother...my sister..." He gave a small gesture and coughed blood again.

Jilak responded as Valkoor hung his head and sobbed. "Thalomir...look what ruin you have brought upon yourself. You fool. Do you know how much you have hurt me?"

Thalomir remained silent, and Frase shook her head. "You remain my brother in combat, no matter how evil, no matter how disillusioned; in death and in life." The dragon knelt and gripped Thalomir's hand tightly. She could've crushed a normal human's bones with the force she exerted. "I want to snap your neck," Frase hissed angrily. "Your actions...your doubt of our masters has led you to this." She continued. "But I will honour your legacy all the same." Slowly, Frase leaned down, almost hesitantly, as if she were breaking one of her many codes, and pressed her lips gently to his brow, a cold touch to his head, a refreshing coolness, like a breeze on a warm summer day. Thalomir breathed in slowly. "I give you my blessing."

Thalomir sighed, closing his eyes, mustering his strength and opening them again.

The tyrant turned to his son, who cried over his body. The spear of black electricity was embedded into his heart and Valkoor's tears burned before they touched the object. Thalomir touched Valkoor's cheek again. "You have my deepest apologies, my son. I am unfit to be a father. I have desecrated my own land, ruined my comrades and my own child. Forgive me, Valkoor, as I part from this world. Forgive my foolish, desperate, doubtful self." Thalomir inhaled once more and Valkoor clutched his father's hand tightly.

"Don't leave me, father, I'm sorry...I'm sorry, father, please...I'm sorry, father..." Valkoor murmured frantically. "Don't leave me, please,"

Thalomir closed his hand into a fist and punched Valkoor lightly in the chest. "Stay strong, my kin. Your blood will never die." he whispered. "Save your loved one." Thalomir's fist began to glow with a radiant light and the space around Valkoor's heart flashed.

* * *

"How can he just...touch your chest and then give you all his power?" A young Alistair von Crux I quoted, his crimson eyes finding his father's. Alistair looked almost similar to his father. Purple streaks ran through his jet-black hair and he had sharp canines that could probably tear out the heart of an animal. His smile was like his mother's and he thought just like her. Questioned everything. Found the flaws in everything. The Titans had fallen. The races got along well enough, but war was still nigh. Humans seemed to be valued more than any other race, and most times, that was the source of conflict. Valkoor had taken his time traveling each world and learning as much as he could before he came back home. It'd been many long years, but it was worth it.

Valkoor smiled softly. His son would grow up to be a great man. "Well, Alistair, what if I touched your chest and gave you my power?" Patting the young boy on the head, Valkoor hugged him close, kissing his son on the forehead.

Alistair grinned happily, his vibrant five-year old self knowledgeable yet not. "Then I'd be the strongest Necromancer in the Spiral! Right, papa?" His grin was genuine, his attitude bubbly.

 _ **If only he never had to see war.**_

Valkoor chuckled heartily and ruffled Alistair's hair. "Well, maybe not the most powerful, but certainly close." Valkoor smiled brightly, trying to resist the urge to hug his son again.

"But can't you use Absolute Death like grandpa?"

Valkoor's eyes softened at the mention of Thalomir. Though his father had done hateful things, it was not out of spite or anger. Disillusion was a hardship that tended to be difficult to overcome, and it blinded Thalomir la Legendaire Suzerain du la Von Crux until the end. "Of course I can, Alistair. I don't like to, however. It is a dangerous power, and can be used in dangerous ways." Valkoor glanced up as Eden Von Crux stepped into the room, a warm smile on her face.

"Why, hello there, boys." She exclaimed, the smirk on her face teasing. "What does one discuss with a child so early in the morning?"

"We were talking about grandpa!" Alistair yelled happily, smiling and leaping about. "Papa said he was a good man."

Eden's eyes found the ground and she gave a sorrowful smile. Even though Thalomir had damn near killed her-even though he was the bane of the revolution during the age of the Titans, she considered the man as close to her as her own father, keeping in mind the fact that she heard his last thoughts before he died through Valkoor. "Your father's correct, Ali." Eden whispered, referring to her son as the name she had called him when he was but a mere fetus resting comfortably in her womb. She clutched the clothes she wore and they crumpled around her stomach.

Alistair smiled. "I'm gonna be just like him, one day..." He murmured and glanced out the window at the rising sun. His small hand reached towards the golden disk and he closed his fist around it, capturing the light behind his knuckles. "I'm going to change the world-I'm going to end the war." Alistair declared firmly, a soft smile on his face.

 ** _If only he'd never have to see war._**

But what were the words but hollow shells?

War was inevitable.

* * *

 ** _"When you run, you gain momentum. When you hit an obstacle, you are bound to stop. If you are on a dark path and you hit an obstacle, do not push on. Think. What are you doing? Why are you here? What is it you are trying to accomplish? Disillusion is one such obstacle that does not only stop you, but completely redirects your momentum to send you down an opposite path. If you hit disillusion head-on, do not slow. Do not stop."_**

 ** _\- Thalomir du Legendaire Suzerain Von Crux to Eden Von Crux_**


End file.
